


The Claws that Bind Us

by FlutteringPhalanges



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family, Gen, Hurt and comfort, Logan - Freeform, Wolverine - Freeform, X-men - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-09 07:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlutteringPhalanges/pseuds/FlutteringPhalanges
Summary: A series of various drabbles based on Logan's and Laura's lives together as father and daughter. This is creating an alternate, happier ending to the movie and what would follow.





	1. Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all drabble requests welcome!

**Sweet Dreams**

Sometimes he thinks it's all just a dream. That perhaps he passed out at the local bar after having one too many pints of beer. Memories of those he has lost. The often none too forgiving migraines brought on by years of both mental and physical abuse-Charles's seizure episodes adding onto the stress.

Storm, Scott, Kurt, Hank, Jean, and now Charles. All gone. And in this haze, he cannot help but wonder if he is too. That maybe he's trapped in some weird circle of Hell or Purgatory. That none of this is real. A joke. A cruel one at that.

It's only when the small frame shifts beside him from where she lies curled on the couch. Her body pressed against his, locks of dark brown hair shadowing over her face. He can feel her breathing at his side, the softest of snores escaping from her mouth. From how she's situated, he can't see how she could possibly be comfortable. But she must be. Lost to the world. At peace.

His eyes flicker to the television, the Disney movie she made them rewatch for a third time that night heading into the credits. It was a school holiday tomorrow, that was the only reason she'd been allowed to stay up late. And quite frankly, he felt he deserved the "Father of the Year" award for not losing his mind over the damn cartoons and children shows she loved so dearly. With, of course, the occasional western flick he'd agree to.

He exhales, inhaling deeply. He coughs, but it isn't rough and as painful as it used to be. He receives medical help now. Once a week at the local clinic, hopefully with visits needed less as time goes on. For her, that's why he does it. This desire to die. To end it all. Now, it lingers in his mind no more. He has to be there. For her. As she does for him.

Careful not to jostle her, he brushes her hair from her face and manages to somehow stand up with her in his arms. She stirs and he pauses, but she doesn't wake up. Quietly, he walks down the hallway, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Thankfully, her room isn't far and he succeeds with getting her inside without the sounds of the house rousing her.

Slowly, he sets her down, pulling the covers over her frame as she unconsciously shifts on her bed. Her face is calm, features relaxed. No nightmares. No fears. Perhaps tonight would be a good night for her. Maybe he could finally have a night without having to share his bed with her. Not that he minded that much. He had bad dreams too. And if he could, he'd gladly take all of hers onto him without a second's thought.

He watches her for a moment, looking for any signs of distress. There are none. So he inhales, bending over once more to make the final adjustments to her cot. Blankets pulled up. Hair out of her face. Minion nightlight plugged into the wall-fuck those yellow cartoon things-before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep tight, kid," he mutters, giving her one final glance before heading out of her room. "See you in the morning."


	2. The Field Trip

**The Field Trip**

"Careful, you're gonna smudge the glass."

Logan watched as his daughter pressed her face against the large aquarium, hands resting on either side as she gazed at the fish and plant life within with the utmost unwavering attention. Even the smallest, less impressive creature captured her fascination. Even though he'd never admit to it, her reaction to all of this made it almost worth agreeing to be a chaperone for her class's field trip.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing towards a long, flat gray thing with a tail as long as either of their claws.

"Stingray," he replied, slightly surprised that he knew that.

"And that?" Laura gestured towards a group of fish, one standing out in particular with its spike-like scales.

In a way, it reminded him a knight's chainmail. Or, and he tried to push the thoughts back into his head, one of the mutants that had found refuge at the Xavier School. He, like the others, no longer needed that. Gone. Their existences and memories buried underneath the rubble of the great mansion in Westchester.

"Pufferfish," he answered, suddenly coming back to reality when his eyes met his daughter's, her stare concerned by his silence. "They puff up and make their spikes stick out when they're threatened. It's a defense mechanism."

"Like our claws?" She questioned, eyes flickering from her hand to his.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Like our claws."

She nodded, her attention turning back to the fish tank. While her other classmates seemed to roam about, many taking more interest in the gift shop than the actual aquarium, Laura seemed content to remain in this spot. Unlike the other children, after all, she had not been given such access and freedom to explore the world.

"I want a fish," she said suddenly. "One I can keep in my room."

Pets were not in Logan's favorite possessions. Centuries ago, when he was a young boy, his family owned a dog. A mutt, nothing impressive. He got along with it just fine-though, it seemed to take a liking more to his brother than him for some odd reason. Then there were the pigs, chickens, and cattle, those being more for work and eating purposes.

His own exposure to animals hadn't been that bad now that he considered things. But an animal was another thing to take care of and unlike Laura, they couldn't be trained to use the bathroom or clean up messes or things of that nature. Hell, he was still teaching Laura to this day how to have some semblance of manners-not that he was one to talk.

"Maybe," he muttered. "We'll see. But it's not gonna be like anything you see her. You can have a goldfish at most. In a bowl, no big tank, and you'll have to take care of it, not me."

She nodded, "Okay."

Not too far from where they stood, the muffled sound of the teacher calling her students reached both of the mutants' ears. It was lunchtime and they were to have it together. Thankfully it was heavily suggested that everyone pack their own lunch, meaning Logan didn't have to spend an entire paycheck on buying shitty, expensive food from the overcrowded cafe.

"Let's go, kid," he said, Laura's fingers wrapping around his wrist. "I wanna have a good pick of the picnic table seats."

Without another word, they began to walk towards the teacher and the children who buzzed energetically without even having consumed whatever sugary crap they had surely brought with them. His eyes flickered down at Laura, her own focus more fixed on the task at hand. And for a moment, as many do often find him, his own amazement at the mere aspect of having her. Having a daughter. And much like she was experiencing, this was an entirely new world opening up to him. One that, much like hers, was absolutely captivating.

"Dad?"

The pressure on his wrist caused him to refocus, gaze turning downwards to see Laura's fingers wrapped tightly around him, face eyeing him curiously.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Got distracted."

"About my fish?" She inquired.

"Something like that," he replied before catching himself. "If we're even gonna buying one of those damn-those things."

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, they continued on, Laura contently walking towards the slew of kids gathered around chattering louder than Logan cared to hear. But when the young mutant's fingers released their grip on him as she went to join the others, he couldn't help but allow the smallest of smiles to grace across is old, worn features.

She was, after all, far more amazing than the entirety of the world's oceans and the lives thriving within them. And because of this, and so much more, perhaps he'd give in to her demands. She was his world now and he'd vowed to be what no one had ever been to him up until this point. A family. Something he would not allow to slip away from him as so much had before.

And with that in mind, the idea of a goldfish came into his thoughts. After all, compared with everything they had dealt with and what is and was to come, something so small, so silly didn't seem like such an outrageous idea.

Until it died of course.

But he was not going to worry about it now. Day by day. Step by step. He would enjoy every moment of it, just like Charles had begged him to. Exhaling, he followed behind the class, his eyes never leaving Laura as she engaged with the other children, oblivious to the world and troubling thoughts. And for a second, for the time he spent here now, he allowed himself too.

"This is what it feels like," Charles's words circling within his mind.

This is what it feels like.


	3. Nightmares

**Nightmares**

He bolts upright when he hears the sound of her shrieking. The animalistic cry ringing in his ears as his feet hit the cold, worn wood of the floor as he races towards her room. Anguish. Fear. Rage. All emotions mixed into one melt into the sounds of her wails, bloodcurdling as they resonate throughout the household like an echo in a cave.

Hands gripping the doorframe of her room, eyes wide and alert as he looks for any immediate danger. Her new bedsheets lay in tatters, strewn across the room as if a cyclone had passed through. It's then his gaze lands on the small frame writhing in the bed. Laura.

"Hey, hey," he says, trying to gently shake her awake.

Two claws slice against his face, a hot white pain momentarily overcoming his previous actions as he stumbles back slightly, gripping his face and groaning as the cuts slowly, but surely heal. He sees her, body twisting and turning violently on the mattress, features scrunched up tight. Her face is wet and he isn't sure if it's tears or sweat. Maybe both.

"Laura," he says a little louder, finally venturing back over to her side. "Laura, you gotta wake up. You're having a nightmare! You gotta-"

She sits up so abruptly that Logan is surprised his reflects are still quick when her claws once again find themselves mere centimeters from his face. The young mutant's chest rises and falls rapidly, a defensive look in her eyes as if she is bound to attack.

"Hey," he soothes. "It's okay, it's okay."

It aches more than he thought possible when he sees the fear and anger slip away from her face, washed away by the sorrow that falls in its place. She looks to him, tears welling in her eyes, body trembling as she reaches for him. Without a second's thought, he pulls her close, the sobs that rack her figure leaving tears and mucus on his nightshirt.

"Daddy," the name comes out choked. "Daddy!"

"It's okay," he murmurs, pressing his face against her hair. "You're okay. Everything's okay."

As he holds her tight, he looks once more to the damage in her room. Yet another pair of sheets ruined, the wall beside her bed slashed right where he had finished plastering over the previous holes. He's sure the mattress has some injury, hopefully not severe enough that he has to replace it again.

"Shh," he whispers, her crying becoming less intense as the adrenaline rush slips away, exhaustion crawling in its place. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

He closes his own eyes momentarily, inhaling deeply. It was going to be another long night, something he was unfortunately growing accustomed to. It wasn't going to get any better, he knew that. She knew that. The nightmares would come and the terrors that followed would be merciless.

But despite the hell that had been cursed upon them, there was one aspect that he would never allow to be taken away. No matter what. No matter when. No matter where. He would be there for her. When her dreams tore through her mind, leaving horrifying memories. Fears of what's to come. The thick blanket of darkness. He would be there. Always.

"I'm right here," he whispered, rocking her gently. "I'm gonna be right with you always."

Always.


	4. Sunday Mornings

**Sunday Mornings**

From the centuries that had passed since his childhood, Logan had to give some credit to Canada's preservation of the land he knew so well. Much of the wilderness was still thick with towering trees and the various lakes and rivers that wore their waters into the rock of the mountains were crystal clear and often encrusted with ice during the winter months. There were very few things Logan considered to be grateful for, and this was one of them.

Since relocating back to the Northwest Territories with Laura in tow, he'd purchased a cabin from a couple who used it previously as a vacation home. It cost a reasonable chunk of money he had originally set aside for his and Charles's boat, but now as a caretaker to his own child, her needs were more important than his own. He needed to get her assimilated to normal life and perhaps, when she was much older, they could buy one for their own leisurely pleasure.

Within a month of settling down, Logan managed to get hired by a lumber company. The work was tedious and the hours sometimes long, but it paid well enough to support his and Laura's needs. And, of course, when he got her registered to start school (a choice that took weeks for him to mull over) it gave him something to do.

Thankfully, unless called to do so, he was off most weekends. Given this spare time, he and Laura spent growing to understand and build a relationship that was very much needed. They did, after all, have to fill in the gaps for the years they missed. And so every Sunday, the morning to be exact, they would go down to the big lake that sat between their home and a half mile of forest. A decent but not overly tiring walk.

On this particular morning, Logan watched from his place on the lake edge, sitting on a foldout chair as it was more forgiving on his back than resting on the ground. His gaze was set on the young girl who knelled on a rock, hands pressed against the stone as she remained completely silent. Her concentration and unwavering determination was so evident, the old mutant couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face.

Then, without any warning, she lunged forward with a clawed hand swiping underneath the dark water seemingly struggling for a moment before pulling it out with a triumphant cry. There, attached to her two claws twitching, was a large trout. It spasmed weakly leaving Logan to believe that the girl's attack already left it dead and its movements were mere nerve impulses.

"I got one!" She grinned, waving her fist with the fish still well attached in the air.

"Careful," Logan warned. "You're gonna lose it if you swing it around like that."

Most parents would have bought their child a fishing pole to use whilst trying to catch fish. But Logan was no normal parent and Laura far from what many would consider a normal child. Still, her innocence and amusement that followed many her age, was still very much present. It was, to say the least, rather amusing to watch the young mutant use her powers to accomplish tasks most would take a different route to complete.

"Is it good?" She asked, holding the now still fish towards her father.

"Come over here and let me see," he motioned, leaning forward as the girl hurried over to him. It was a rather large fish, considering Laura's size and current abilities while learning the full extent of her powers. "It'll work."

Sunday nights were unofficially declared fish nights with Laura catching the meal and Logan preparing it. He was quite versed in the task of descaling and deboning such things that he most likely would put a successful chef to shame-preparation wise of course.

"C'mon," he said, taking a moment to push himself up. "Let's get going and take it home. I forgot the cooler and I don't want it to start going bad."

Laura nodded before reaching for Logan's hand with her free one while making sure their soon to be meal was well attached to the metal talons of her other. Together they walked back through the woods, the lake growing further and further behind them.

It was after all, to say the least, a successful Sunday morning well spent.


	5. Superheroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I am very well aware, as is the person who requested this prompt, that Superman is a part of the DC world. With that in mind, for the sake of this one-shot, DC comics are available in this world. None of the heroes, and what not, are real, but merely are just comics.

**Superheroes**

Free Comic Book Day. To him, it was ridiculous how many damn holidays people came up with. But of course, as usual, it wasn't about his opinions. It was Laura's and she wanted a free comic book, something the softer, fatherly side of him refused to deprive her of. No matter how stupid he found it. However, he did have to give it credit for being free to say the least.

"Come on," the young mutant demanded, tugging hard at her father's arm. "We have to go now!"

"First go grab your jacket," he said, surprised how strong her grip was despite her age. "I don't want you to catch a cold." Nothing her mutation couldn't fix, but it still felt better to be safer than sorry.

"Fine," Laura grumbled, running quickly towards the living room where she had left it earlier. "Got it!"

She struggled with the sleeves as she ran towards Logan, skidding slightly on the wooden floor. He grabbed her before she could fall, exhaling as he shook his head.

"Be careful," he warned, a statement that had come to be a rather big part of his vocabulary now. "I told you not to run in the house. You could fall-"

"Dad!" She whined, making a face. "I can heal-"

"I know, I know," the older mutant sighed. "But still, you could knock something over and break it." That truly wasn't his main concern, rather choosing to use it to hide the fact he was very overprotective of her. "Let's go, god knows how big of a line there will be at the store."

The short ride to the comic book shop went with any issues, Laura huddled in the back with her iPod as Logan listened to his own music over the radio. When they finally pulled into the parking lot, the older mutant was very much relieved to find it mostly empty.

"Laura, slow down," Logan exhaled, watching as her daughter quickly hopped out of the car and made a beeline towards the entrance.

"You walk too slow," Laura complained as she grabbed the door handle. "Hurry up, Daddy!"

When the pair finally walked into the store, much to Laura's excitement, the girl quickly ran over to a table that was covered with various little piles of comic books. A sign hung down over the front requesting that people take only one comic in order to allow others the chance of nabbing their own. Joining Laura, Logan watched out of the corner of his eye as the girl intently studied the various options available for her to pick from.

"You aren't here," she said, voice laced with disappointment.

Logan's own gaze scanned the table, noticing that his daughter was right. No X-Men. For a small moment, he surprisingly felt a little offended that there weren't any of him as his former team. But these thoughts were lost when his daughter shoved a comic right in front of his face. Blinking, waiting for his eyes to adjust, he made out the image of a man sporting a blue body suit complete with a red cape and a yellow, triangular shape with a big, red "S".

Superman.

"You sure you want this one?" Logan questioned.

"Yes," his daughter replied confidently. "I want this one."

Laura clutched the comic book as the drove home, forgoing her music as she instead examined her new possession with the utmost interest. Pulling into the driveway, the young mutant wasted no second as she ran towards the front door. Locking the truck, which was rather unnecessary seeing as there was no one near them for quite a ways, he followed Laura into their home.

"Shoes off," he said, watching as his daughter shrugged off her coat before quickly undoing her sneakers. "Don't run-" But she was already on the couch, legs folded as she sat intently on the cushions.

"Can you read it to me?" She asked, holding the comic towards him. "Please?"

"You know how to read," he replied, pulling off his own boots.

"Yes," she answered. "But I want you to read it to me. Please?"

He looked at her, cursing in his mind about how she was too damn cute to turn anything down. They'd only spent several months together and she already had him wrapped tightly around her finger. His old age, he decided, was responsible for his softness. But, of course, in the back of his mind, he knew that wasn't the truth. No matter how old he would have been, having Laura would be his complete undoing.

"Okay," he relented. "Scoot over."

Once settled, he took the book from her, Laura's head resting against shoulder as he turned the first page. As they went through, he couldn't help but snort quietly about how incredibly underwhelming the superhero was. He hadn't ever cared to even give a rat's ass to the tales of Superman, unlike many others. But now that he finally was reading it, it was far more ludicrous than he'd imagined.

"So Kyptonite is his weakness?" Laura inquired, her question causing him to pause. He hadn't really been paying attention, just reading it as the words droned without real concentration in his head.

"Guess so," he replied, scanning down to a panel that thankfully had the answer. "Yeah."

"Like Adamantium?"

"Probably," he stated.

"But we have it inside us too and it doesn't hurt...kinda," Laura said, her eyes studying the page. "He doesn't have it in him. The Kyptonite."

"Yeah," her father agreed. "He doesn't."

"I bet I could beat Superman," she said confidently. "We could together."

"You're probably right," he replied, not really as invested as his daughter. "But he's not real. Just a story."

"I know," Laura answered, falling silent for a moment before speaking up. "I think you're cooler than Superman."

Logan stiffened at her words, somewhat shocked by her compliment. Well, he guessed it was one. He met his daughter's gaze, her wide smile causing the muscles in his face to twitch into a small smile.

"You're a real superhero," she declared. "...Even though you can't fly."

The older mutant reached forward and ruffled the girl's hair, smiling at her as she beamed up at him.

"You're not so bad yourself, kid," he said. "...Even though you don't always listen."

"Keep reading," Laura said, seeming not to have really heard him as she tapped on the page. "I want to know what happens next!"

"Alright," her father replied, eyes fixed on the page before him. "It's a bird. It's a plane. It's…"


	6. Goldfish

**Goldfish**

"There's something wrong with my goldfish."

Six words that Logan didn't want to hear. Sighing, he made his way to his daughter's room. There, peering into the round fishbowl with a sad expression, was Laura. She reached forward and poked the glass a few times, sniffing when her efforts were in vain.

The older mutant walks over, eyes falling onto the scene before him. Floating upside down in the tank with the clear appearance of lifelessness was the bright orange fish. Dead. Probably for several hours now by the dullness that enveloped its body as well as the water around it.

"Sorry, kid," he said, placing his hand on the girl's shoulder. "He's gone."

"But we just got him," Laura moaned, staring up to meet his father's gaze. "I took care of him. Promise! I didn't overfeed him or anything. Not like the others!"

"He probably was sick when we bought him," he answered. "Unfortunately." The latter statement being more geared towards the fact that once again he had wasted a few bucks on another pet that bit the dust so soon after.

"Poor Mr. Fins," she sighed. "Now we have to bury him with his friends."

Her father exhaled, cursing softly to himself so Laura couldn't hear him as he made his way to locate the shovel. This was number fifteen now. Or sixteen? Christ, he'd lost count after three. Grumbling, he located the shovel before propping it up against the fence.

When he made his way back to the house, he helped his daughter retrieve the body of her fish and carefully wrap it in paper towels. If he had his way, the damn thing would've been immediately flushed down the toilet. But instead, Laura grabbing his hand, he was forced to travel with her to the mass gave.

Making a small hole and thankfully not digging up the other bodies, Logan stepped back as the younger mutant gently placed her beloved pet into it.

"Mr. Fins, I'm really going to miss you," Laura said, tears brimming in her eyes before looking to Logan. "Daddy?"

He sighed, "Um...Mr. Fins number…" the girl glared at him. "...Mr. Fins, you were a...decent fish, I guess, for the two days we knew you...rest in peace."

Upon filling the hole back up, the top being adorned with a bouquet of dandelions she picked, the girl turned to her father.

"Daddy?" She asked.

"Yeah?" Logan answered, before a sudden feeling of dread came over him. He knew what was coming next.

"Can we get another fish?"

Son of a bitch.


	7. Dog Tags

**Dog Tags**

There were two of them, engraved plates that hung from a line of small, attached metal beads. Her fingers brushed carefully across each surface, the letters and numbers that adorned them still clearly present despite the many decades and elements they had surely faced. From where she sat cross-legged against the front of the couch, Laura's stare was so focused on the objects that if she had the mutant Scott Summers possessed, her eyes would've surely burned through them.

"Hey."

Her father's unexpected greeting caused the younger mutant to jump, claws slightly extending from her fists before immediately retracting. She was still getting used to the fact that she needn't be on edge and in defense mood all the time. Laura watched as her father moved over to where she was, exhaling as he plopped down on the couch with a bottle of beer.

"Whatcha got there?" He asked, squinting slightly before recognizing his dog tags. "Where'd you find those?"

"Inside your nightstand drawer," she answered sheepishly.

"I told you not to go through my stuff," he said sternly. "We talked about this. You have your privacy and I have mine. Why were you in my room anyways?"

Laura shrugged, "I dunno…" it was very evident that she did know, but whatever reason she might have had was quickly turned to another topic of discussion when she held out the tags. "What are these?"

"Dog tags," he stated, taking them from her. "You get them to identify yourself, most commonly when you go to war."

"Why?"

He paused, momentarily forgetting that Laura had been through enough hell that her innocency had long been vanquished when it came to violence and death.

"In case something happens to you and they need to identify who you are."

"Oh." It was a quiet response, one that almost sounded slightly sorrowful. "Did you know a lot of people who had to have theirs used like that?"

"More than I'd care to think about," her father answered, eyes flickering down to the two pieces that were labeled either Logan or Wolverine. "I got these after many of the earlier wars I fought in. One was from when I was working with a team of mutants."

"The X-Men?"

"Earlier," he stated. "Much earlier."

"Oh."

A moment of silence fell upon the two, Laura saying nothing as her father's eyes remained on the two necklaces. His fingers smoothed across the worn metal, mind trying to push back the many nightmarish memories that he'd gone through wearing them. Exhaling, he lifted his gaze to meet Laura's, hand extended outwards with both dog tags resting on his palm.

"Here," he said, "You take 'em."

His daughter reached out with a tentative hand. "Really?"

"Mhm," he nodded as her small, slender fingers brushed against his calloused skin as she went to grasp them. "They aren't much use to me anymore. They deserve a good home."

"I'll take care of them," his daughter answered, voice laced with gratitude. "I'll take good care of them. Promise!"

"I know you will, Bubs," he said, the bad memories slipping away from his immediate conscious thoughts. His mind now instead focusing on the appreciative fact and affection he held towards his kid. "I know you will."


	8. Birthdays

**Birthdays**

"Two eggs."

There was a reason he hadn't ever pursued and sort of culinary education. Hell, for all he knew, he was the main reason frozen dinners were conceived for. There were times during his years of existence where he had resorted to eating scraps and small animals because there was no food around to suffice his needs. Yet here he stood, right in front of the kitchen counter with his daughter by his side as they eyeballed a big, metal bowl before them.

"Here," he handed her the requested items, watching as she cracked each on the edge before allowing the yolks to slip down inside. Traces of egg white dripped down the side of the bowl, Logan reaching forward to wipe them away. The last thing either of them needed was a case of salmonella. "Watch what you're doing."

"Cake mix," Laura requested, seemingly too focused on the task at hand to hear her father's words. "Please."

Logan exhaled, shaking his head as he handed the girl the packet of chocolate powder. A part of him wondering if they should've put that into the bowl first, but Laura was in charge of the directions. Now that he thought about it, maybe that wasn't the best idea...

"It won't open," came the young mutant's voice, causing her father to look at her.

Laura was pressed against the counter, face scrunched in annoyance as she tried to pull open the sides of the plastic bag without much success. Before he could properly react, his daughter had retracted one of her claws and-

"-Laura, no!"

It was like a bomb went off. A big, chocolaty, dust cloud that spread throughout the area they stood in. There was a pregnant pause, Logan closing his eyes as if the idea of not looking might make the situation go away. Well, that and not losing his temper and snapping at Laura.

"Oops…" came the quietest of voices. "Sorry."

Counting back from ten, Logan finally opened his eyes to see that the mess was still, and very much so, all over the place. Staring at him, looking rather worried was Laura. From her expression, the older mutant could tell she was very nervous about how he was about to react. He had, after all, warned her countless times to be careful. A phrase that was becoming very over used in his vocabulary.

"Okay," he exhaled. "Okay...let's clean this up and go to the store. We'll pick up a cake, any kind you like, alright?"

The time in between cleaning up the kitchen and running to the store was a few hours or so at most. The tidying up itself was not a long process and the drive to the bakery not terrible, but Laura had spent a ridiculous amount of time deciding which cake she wanted. When they finally left, a round, chocolate cake with pink roses sat in the passenger seat, thankfully maintaining its decorations as the truck bumped up the long, rocky driveway.

"Can we have candles?" Laura asked as she flung open the door.

"Yeah," her father replied, bringing the cake over to the dining room table before removing his boots. "They're in the cabinet in the blue box. Grab the lighter while you're at it."

Gently removing the decadent dessert from its prison, Logan carefully sat the cake on the largest plate they had-just to keep the table relatively clean. They'd already had to straighten up once. When Laura returned, he helped her place the candles on the cake, making sure that she didn't push each in too deep. Once satisfied, Logan went about lighting them. Finally, when each was flickering, Laura turned to her father.

"Happy birthday to you," she sung, slightly off key. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear daddy. Happy birthday to you!"

Logan smiled as his daughter beamed up at him. It had been decades, centuries even since he had properly celebrated his birthday. When it came up in a casual conversation, Laura had requested-no, demanded they have a party. Ultimately, they came to the compromise that they'd get a cake and enjoy the day just the two of them.

"Make a wish, daddy!" Laura said, smiling wide.

Logan smirked, "Alright, Bubs." He leaned forward, pausing for a microsecond before taking a big breath and blowing each of the candles out.

"What's your wish?" Laura inquired. "Was it a good one?"

"Not supposed to say, remember?" He smiled. "It won't come true."

But it already had. Much longer ago than the candles and the cake were even made. The day he had found his daughter. The moment Laura became his. That was his wish. His greatest gift. And as he watched her pick the candles from the cake, yammering about which piece she wanted and what slice he could have, the old man couldn't help but smile more. Birthday wishes or not, he was already the luckiest man in the world.


	9. The New Pet

**The New Pet/strong > **

****

He first began to have an inkling that something was up when he was scrubbing the mud stains on the knees of Laura's jeans for the third day in a row. While she was a kid and spent a reasonably long time playing outside, he felt there was something more sinister going on. Well, okay, not sinister, but not particularly good either.

****

It was around lunchtime when Laura entered the household, Logan eyeing the dirt jammed under her fingernails as she sat down to eat the peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich he'd made for her. When he was about to comment on how she needed to go wash her hands before eating, something long, slimy, and brown fell out of her pocket and onto the floor. An earthworm.

****

"Laura," he began, watching as his daughter quickly swooped down and shoved the creature roughly back into her pocket. "Why do you have a worm?"

****

She seemed to hesitate, almost as if she were struggling to find a believable answer to his question. He stared at her, not allowing his focus to drift elsewhere. After three days of these shenanigans, he was going to get to the bottom of this. Especially since the mud stains were apparently now being accompanied by worms.

****

"...They're for my friend," she said quietly, looking down as to not meet her father's gaze. "He likes them."

****

"What friend?" Logan responded, unsure now if he really wanted to know. Of the few friends Laura had made since their move to Canada, none of them seemed weird enough to eat stuff like that. Well, he hopefully assumed they weren't. "Laura?"

****

The young mutant sighed before standing up, wiping her mouth with the front of her hand as she peered up at her father. Clearly she didn't want to discuss whatever this friend of hers was, but knew that it was better to get things off her chest now than to deal with it later. At least for the sake of hopefully not getting in trouble with Logan.

****

"I'll show you," she mumbled, motioning for the older mutant to follow her. "He's in my room."

****

Logan wasn't sure what to expect when Laura led him into her room, holding up a hand to stop him as she got on her hands and knees beside her bed and withdrew a large cardboard box. She glanced up at him as if to tell him he could now approach. With the utmost hesitation, he stepped forward, taking a deep breath before looking down into the box.

****

There, sitting on the bottom, was the biggest, ugliest toad Logan had ever seen. The creature had dark grey, rough skin that was speckled with bumps and black splotches. He sat there almost calmly, his eyes facing forward with an almost irritated expression. If the older mutant didn't know any better, he'd think that the toad's displeasure was aimed at him for being disturbed.

****

"His name is Warts," Laura explained, reaching into the box to grab the thing. "I found him a few days ago under a log. He was by himself so I took him. He likes it when I give him bugs."

****

So that explained the mud stains and the worms. She was taking care of the goddamn thing. Logan inhaled, lips twitching into a frown as his daughter held onto her find with great care. It wasn't staying, that he had decided at first glance. Christ knew how many diseases the damn thing carried. Hell no, that frog-toad, whatever the goddamn animal was, was leaving their house now.

****

"Take it outside and put it back where you found him," Logan said sternly. "You aren't keeping that thing in your room."

****

"His name is Warts and he's my friend," Laura countered. "He likes it here. He doesn't want to go back outside."

****

"That's a damn shame," he growled, pointing towards the door. "Take him out right now and let him go. I'm not kidding, I don't want him in this house. Christ knows what he's got on him." He isn't phased by Laura's upset expression. Whether it was genuine or manipulative wasn't about to change his decision in the slightest. "Out. Now."

****

"Fine!" Laura pouted, glaring at Logan as she clutched Warts tightly to her chest. "I'll put him back!"

****

Logan watched as the girl stomped passed him, not meeting his eyes as she trudged towards the door. Somehow managing to maintain her grip on the toad, she shoved her feet into her shoes and stomped out of the house, the door swinging shut behind her.

****

Laura refused to speak to him the rest of the day after that. When she came back inside, she pushed by him and went straight into her room. Even when it came dinnertime, the young girl poked at the macaroni and cheese Logan had made, specifically since it was her favorite and he felt a little bad for making her get rid of her "friend". He didn't regret his decision, not by a long shot, but he still felt somewhat guilty for upsetting his daughter.

****

Bedtime came earlier than usual when Laura went off to her room instead of watching her nighttime cartoons. Logan eyed her from where he rested against the kitchen counter, a beer in hand. Her door closed without so much as a "goodnight" or an "I love you", which was very unusual for her. He sighed, taking a big sip of his beer before setting in down on the granite top. The least he could do was to attempt to patch things up somewhat until her resent wore off.

****

"Laura," he knocked on the door. "Can we talk for a moment?"

****

Shuffling sounded from the other side as Logan reached for the door handle to turn it. Upon opening the door, he first noticed Laura sitting perched on top of her bed. She seemed a little uneasy, her posture somewhat rigid as she stared back at him. Logan exhaled, pressing his lips into a firm line before opening his mouth to speak.

****

"Look Bubs, about earlier I just-"

****

Then he heard it, the sound unmistakable. A single, deep croak that came out muffled right underneath Laura's pillow. The girl froze, her chest rising as she sucked in a fast breath. Logan was nearly by her bedside before he even realized he was walking. Grabbing her pillow, he pulled it up to reveal that very same toad he had banished earlier sitting comfortably on his kid's bed. Wart's appeared to look up at him, blinking very slowly before letting out another croak.

****

"Laura, I told you to get rid of him," his voice was now laced with anger.

****

"Please, daddy," Laura begged. "He's mine. I don't want him to go away. Please let me keep him! Please!"

****

Logan opened his mouth about to yell at her when his gaze fell back on the creature in his daughter's hands. Warts didn't seem at all stressed by the fact he was currently being held captive. On the contrary, he appeared to be very mellow about it. It was clear Laura cared very much about him, enough to where she spent a great deal of time collecting food for him. And unlike the goldfish, Warts had survived a few days already with them. Not to mention feeding the damn thing would be cheap if it only required going outside to gather stuff. Letting go one, slow exhale, Logan looked to his daughter.

****

"He's your responsibility," he stated. "And we're getting a tank for him first thing tomorrow. I don't want him out and about in the house. Understand?"

****

"Yes," she promised, a large smile now across her face. "I swear! Thank you, daddy! Did you hear that, Warts? You get to stay!"

****

Logan ran a hand tiredly down his face as the young mutant continued to speak to her new pet like he could understand her. When Logan finally looked down, seemingly meeting the eyes of the toad, he could almost swear the damn thing was looking back at him with a sneer. He shook his head, muttering to himself as he reached for the door handle. He needed to work on not being so soft.

****

But of course, when he turned his attention back to Laura and Warts, he realized such a task might not be that easy. And was, more likely than he'd care to admit, impossible.

****


	10. The Crush

**The Crush**

As sappy as it sounded, Logan had begun to feel that Laura was growing up way too fast for his liking the day she started high school. Though they had only become a family a few years ago, the older mutant still viewed his daughter as "his little girl". No matter the circumstance, she would always be that. And so, at the exact moment that boy set foot into his household behind his child, a great sense of primal threat overcame him.

"Daddy," Laura said, walking up to her father. "This is Trevor. We have a group project together and I thought we could work on it here," she paused before adding. "If that's okay."

"It would've been nice if you had texted me first," Logan replied, his tone heavily thick with distaste. "That's the entire reason I agreed to get that fancy cell phone for you."

Before Laura even had a moment to reply, Trevor stepped forward with a friendly, but slightly nervous smile. "You're Wolverine, right? That's so cool! I was a major fan of yours when I was a kid-not that I'm not still. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

When he extended his hand towards Logan, the other man grabbed it roughly, seeming to be more interested in squeezing the teenager's fingers to near breaking point rather than actually shaking them. As clear pain and discomfort washed across Trevor's face, Laura quickly began to pick up on her father's hostility. With a deep frown, she took a step forward, brow furrowed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

"Dad," she hissed. "Let him go."

Logan dropped the boy's hand who immediately exhaled and gripped his bruised fingers with his uninjured one. While his expression was still friendly like before, it was evident that his shyness had melted away and was now replaced by fear. He said nothing, trying not to meet Logan's gaze as the mutant stared at him hard, seemingly watching every bit of him including each breath.

"We're going to my room to work on it now," Laura said, finally breaking the silence.

"No, like hell you are," her father cut in, not allowing his daughter to even have a moment to interrupt. "You can work down in the living room, right where I can see you."

"But you're watching your football game," she complained, glaring at him. "It'll be distracting. How are we supposed to get anything done?"

"You can sit your ass in here with your new friend or fail the project all together. I don't care either way, but you are not going into your room. Not in my house. And sure as hell not in his."

Laura's expression of rage and mortification burned across her features, fists clenched to the point where Logan was somewhat concerned that her claws would reveal themselves. But before any of that could occur, Trevor rested a hand on her shoulder. Fury ignited in Logan as Laura's seem to simmer away.

"It's okay," he said gently. "I'm fine with working down here. We can get it done, no problem."

The younger mutant's shoulders relaxed as she looked at her friend with an apologetic smile. "I'll go grab the supplies from my room then," she said, then looked to her father disapprovingly. "It will only take a second. I will be right down in a minute." Or translated into what Logan knew she meant, "If you start any shit with him while I'm gone, I'm going to literally tear you a new one."

"Cool," Trevor smiled, watching as Laura threw him one final glance of sympathy before hurrying off to her room. "I'll get the guidelines from my backpack."

Once Laura had disappeared, Trevor began to dig through his backpack, trying his best not to release Logan's inner beast onto himself. It was incredibly obvious that the teenager found his daughter attractive, possibly to a much greater extent than just observation. And that, Logan despised. No kid had the right to even consider having a crush on his daughter-even if they were a fan of him and the X-Men. There were no brownie points to be given about this.

"So," he began coolly. "You know my daughter. How come I haven't heard of you before?"

"Well Laura and I have just started to become closer," he immediately backtracked upon seeing Logan stiffen. "...well, I guess become more acquainted. We hadn't really talked up until we were assigned to this science project together."

"Science," Logan grunted. "What the hell are you two doing anyways?"

"Well, we are actually conducting various tests on metals. Seeing what different chemicals do. How they interact with one another. Comparing and contrasting, nothing too fun." He let out a nervous laugh, immediately falling silent when Logan didn't. "I really enjoy working with her. She's very smart."

"I'm no geek, and I am sure as hell no scholar, but I do know a thing or two about metal," Logan's tone was cold, frighteningly calm.

Trevor shifted uncomfortably where he sat, suddenly losing interest in digging through his bag. There was a sense of pleasure Logan found in watching the boy squirm. It was amusing, his fear. Hell, he should be scared. If he wasn't, he didn't have a damn brain. Not that lacking that would've saved him in the long run. He was, of course, not picky when it came to dealing with those he felt needed to be properly dealt with.

"Yep," he continued, cracking his knuckles one by one. "Several decades ago, actually. See, back then, way before your damn comics even existed, I was a part of this underground super soldier team-if you wanna call it that." He leaned back, smirking slightly when Trevor sucked in a breath. "I used to be like you. Just a skeleton of old, breakable bones. But then I got equipped with something real special. You've read about me, surely you know, right?"

"I..um...I'm not sure, sir," Trevor gulped, beginning to shake. "Do you mean your…"

He drew out his claws before even giving the kid a chance to finish. The long, metal talons glistened in the artificial light. He moved his hand slowly, looking at them as one does when examining a piece of famous artwork closely. Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could see the teenager trembling, surprisingly enough not yet wetting his pants.

"Adamantium," he exclaimed, lips pressed tightly together. "They say it's the strongest metal out there. Were you aware of that?"

"No, sir," the boy's words came out in a whisper. "I didn't."

"Mhm," Logan nodded, briefly returning his gaze to Trevor. "Can cut through everything. I've seen it myself. Done it actually. Brick. Concrete. Trees. Cars…" he paused. "People."

"Oh," Trevor's voice was completely drenched with terror.

"Now that you know that scientific history, there is just one more bit of information I'd like you to tuck away into the egghead of yours," he leaned in, and with the coldest, calmest, tone he could muster. "If touch my daughter, hell, even breathe on her too hard, I will cut off your dick and shove it down your throat before slicing you up into unrecognizable pieces." He paused, watching the fear in the boy's eyes as his words sunk in. "Do we have an agreement?"

Trevor was nodding vigorously, almost to the point where the older mutant was certain it had to be giving him a headache. "Yes, sir," he spluttered. "Of course, sir. I understand...sir!"

Logan, appearing satisfied with the teenager's answer, settled back in his couch. Grabbing the remote and a beer from the side table, he turned on the television. Exhaling, he began to flip through the channels, trying to find which one had the station he desired.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, not even looking at Trevor anymore. "Let's not tell Laura about this, alright? Keep things between the two of us. It's better that way."

The older man was already immersed in his game when his daughter came hurrying down the steps. With an armful of supplies, she made her way to where Trevor sat beside the couch. Laura smiled as she took her own seat, offering her friend a small smile.

"I'm so sorry," she exhaled, slightly out of breath. "I couldn't find everything at first. My room's a mess apparently. But I have everything now!"

Trevor mumbled an inaudible reply, most likely assuring her it was fine. Immediately, Laura sensed something was not right. But Logan, now far too deep and focused on his favorite football team duking it out, only remained silent, too content to meet his daughter's cold glare.

Hopefully his conversation with Trevor had heavily sunk into the teenager's mind. For his first go at this, Logan considered his "talk" with his daughter's unacceptable suitor an accomplishment. Now he would be ready and well prepared for the many who would surely follow. At least until then he had time to beef up his scare tactics. She was, of course, his little girl and no one was going to touch a hair on her head.

Well, that was if they didn't want a "Circumcision a la Wolverine".


	11. Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the incredibly short post today, guys. I haven't been feeling well but I wanted to get something posted. If you enjoyed this and maybe want to see a much longer, part two of this, let me know. Thanks for your patience.

**Hair**

She sits between his legs, her back straight against the couch as she stares forward, absolutely still. How she could manage to remain a statue for so long, he wasn't sure. He was grateful though, his hands slightly shaking as he grabbed a large lock of her hair. When he pulled the brush through it, it snagged and only then came out when he yanked it. That surely had to hurt, but Laura didn't even flinch nor let out the slightest word of protest.

"You sure you just don't wanna go with a ponytail again today?" He asked, secretly hoping that because of this rather dreadful experience, she would want him to stop. "I can actually do those."

"No," she replied, her tone unwavering. "I want a braid."

He sighed in defeat, "I can't make any promises that it'll look remotely like that. But I'll try. You can't complain if it doesn't work though."

"I won't."

Exhaling, he leaned forward and unpaused the youtube video. Before him a woman stood with a large smile, much wider than he thought possible. For the umpteenth time, he watched with the utmost attention as she, by some stroke of luck (or so he felt) she redid her hair into a long braid without a second's hesitation.

Damn beauty tutorials...


	12. The County Fair

**The County Fair**

"Give me the bear before you drop that cotton candy I paid out of my ass for."

Logan had never been a fan of anything carnival related be it the rides, or the expensive fried-well, anything-or the carnies themselves whom, like him, were in most cases mutants. In fact, one might even say he absolutely despised the fair. Perhaps to the point where he might, emphasis on the word "might", rather be forced into going through that whole, earthly hell Adamantium procedure again. Might.

But his whole opinion of the damn thing wasn't enough to keep him from taking Laura. She had seen the flyers in town and practically begged him to go. And, like any good parent should, he shoved his own views on what would surely be a torturous occasion in the back of his mind, for the sake of giving Laura an experience she well deserved. He owed her that much.

"Don't gorge yourself on that stuff," he warned as she handed him the slightly sticky stuffed animal. "I don't want you to get sick and puke everywhere when you go on a ride."

"I won't," she insisted through a mouthful of pink sugar fiber. "Promise."

He merely shook his head, breathing through his nose as they continued to walk. While it felt like they had been there for an eternity, in reality on a few hours had passed. From the animal exhibits to the rigged games, Logan and his daughter still hadn't even travelled to the ride section yet. Repeatedly, the older mutant had to remind himself that this was for his kid and that, if he tried, slitting his throat with his claws would just make everything that much worse-seeing as his slowed healing would cause them to lose valuable time that Laura would surely enforce they make up.

"I want to go on that!"

It was Laura's voice that broke him from his train of pessimistic thoughts. He blinked, brow furrowing slightly as he refocused on reality. His eyes followed his daughter's finger, stomach twisting when he saw what it was she was so intent on looking at.

A spinning, flipping, ride of certain death.

"You don't want to go on that," he stated, hoping she'd change her mind. "It'll...hurt your neck with how it whips around."

"But I want to go on it," she insisted. "It'll be fun! Please, daddy, can we?"

We? Oh there was no "we". There was no way in hell he was stepping foot on that damned attraction. He's rather relive his entire existence over and over again before being locked into a seat and be shaken to the point where his insides would scramble up. But the look in his kid's eyes, that stupid, inability to ignore, adoring, and pleading stare he was unable to deny had him exhale loudly.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes. "But don't come crying to me if you get sick."

But she was already running to the line before he finished his warning. He followed her, somewhat relieved that the wait was actually going by quickly. At least something was on his side. It was when they approached the front, the gates opening to allow them access that Logan heard the words he hadn't expected but now feared.

"Each row is two seated," the attendant said, looking from Logan to Laura. "You're going to have to ride with her."

"There is no way in h…" Laura had already cast aside her valued fair items to instead grab his hand and drag him on.

Before he even realized what was happening, the safety bars had secured them in place. He was imprisoned now, tightly bound to the seat beside his kid. There was no chance to protest as the ride began to slowly rock, a wide grin spreading across his daughter's face as the sped increased. Already the bile was twisting in his stomach, a headache already coming on as the rocking grew violent, swinging the passengers mercilessly.

"Shit! Shit!" He cursed, head smashing against the headrest. "Stop!"

Laura was laughing, seemingly unaware of her father's suffering. Logan gripped onto the handlebars, breathing in and out heavily. His eyes squeezed shut as he attempted to try to protect his head from bouncing around. If hell had been what he thought he witnessed before, he had no idea what to call this. Christ, he just wanted to die already.

At first, he didn't even realize that the ride had stop until Laura tugged on his wrist. His eyes opened painfully slow, intestines twisting as he rose from his seat and watched Laura gather her stuff from the side of entrance. He said nothing, his mouth pressed firmly shut as he walked with his daughter off of the platform and back onto the dusty ground of the fair pathway. The bile burned the back of his throat as he shuffled beside the younger mutant who chattered excitedly about their experience. Finally, when her gaze flickered to her father, her smile faltered into a look of confusion and curiosity.

"Daddy?"

And, as if prompted by his daughter's curiosity, proceeded to projectile vomit all over the place.

Goddamn fairs.


	13. Love

**LOVE**

Love. The word is hard to say. At least, to him that is. Vulnerability. Loss. The four letters weigh heavy on his tongue, choking him whenever he tries to utter them. He can't say it. As much as he may like to, it's too hard. The effort. The thought. It tires him. And he regrets it, he does, but he can't help it. But when he looks into her eyes, sees the adoration melted into those dark brown irises, he fights himself. But until that day he can clearly utter it, he shows her as best he can.

**Food**

Three meals a day. He always makes sure she has something good to eat. Sometimes he makes something decent and healthy. That is when he has the time and money to go to the farmer's market for fresh fruits and vegetables. Other times there are frozen dinners, those being easy to heat up when they plan to consume whilst watching an episode of The Simpsons or something else. He can cook macaroni and cheese. From a box that is. And on most days he packs her lunch-thank god for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But he makes sure she always eat. That she never goes hungry. Even if her favorite crappy, over sugary cereal costs him an arm and a leg...and the claws on said lost arm.

**Health**

So she has healing powers. Yeah, he knows that. But god be damned that he isn't going to make sure she has annual check ups and dental appointments. Mutant or not, she was still a kid. His kid. And though he'd never admit it, he finds relief with every vaccine she gets. One less thing to worry about. One less illness. Even though she jabs him with her damn foot claw every time she gets a needle in her arm. She hates those. Well, at least heroin would be out of the question. No drugs. Hopefully.

**Shelter**

He had spent a crap ton of money on doing her room. Making it perfect. Lavender paint. Butterfly sticker-things. Purple bedspread. More stuffed animals he could even count-or remember where the hell he had gotten them from in the first place. But it was her space. All of it was. And even though he might have not had enough left to decor his own space, having her happy made it all worth it.

**LOVE**

He watches her sometimes when she's asleep. Why, he's not sure. Maybe it gives him the relief that she's safe. That she won't disappear when he blinks his eyes. That she's here. Real. His. And sometimes there comes a moment. A rare moment where he finds the strength to whisper the words. The three worded phrase Laura deserves to hear so, so much.

"I love you."

And as he turns away, leaving the sight of his daughter, he misses the small smile that crosses the girl's face.

"I love you too, daddy."


End file.
